


Of Unexplored Feelings

by KaytheJay



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytheJay/pseuds/KaytheJay
Summary: After the bombing, Aziraphale asks Crowley whatever he could do to repay Crowley for the deeds he'd done for the angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Of Unexplored Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello and welcome to day 14 of my Countdown to Christmas! 
> 
> I just kinda randomly came up with this one. It’s a little shorter than I was hoping it would be because this whole project was also part of NaNo, but you know, it still works. I pushed it as far as it would go, possibly too far. But that’s fine. I think it’s alright still. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale could only stare at Crowley. He knew how closely Heaven monitored their miracle use. He could only assume that Hell was much in the same way. So why on Earth had Crowley just used  _ two  _ for the sake of the angel himself. He had redirected an entire  _ bomb  _ and he had saved the books. 

Books that Aziraphale himself hadn’t even thought to save. 

“How could I ever repay you?” Aziraphale decided to say to break the silence. Truly, he owed the demon  _ everything. _ Crowley had saved him from months of paperwork and being berated by Gabriel the whole way. Not to mention that Crowley had saved the books. Books meant oh so much to Aziraphale, especially these ones. Aziraphale traced his finger down the side of the books. A feeling he was unfamiliar with swelled in his chest. It was a feeling that only happened when Crowley was around, and he had yet to figure out what it was.

“Dinner?” Crowley offered. “Some other time, not in London now, but dinner.” Aziraphale shook his head. How could the demon ask for so little when he had just done so much? He was a  _ demon.  _ He was supposed to enjoy taking advantage of people. To have an angel offering a favor is a treat that no other demon had ever found themselves having, he was sure of it. No other angel would ever be caught fratanizing with a demon. 

“Anything in the world and all you want is dinner?” Azirpahale questioned. 

Crowley shrugged. There was nothing else in the entire world than dinner with the angel. He knew that he could’t have him in any way other than he currently had him, so any little bit of time that the angel allowed him to have was more than enough for him. The angel’s time was really all that he ever wanted. 

“Dinner would do just nicely,” Crowley said. “I don’t know what else you could possibly be implying.”

Azirpahale shook his head.  _ Unbelievable _ . If Hell caught onto records and ever asked Crowely about this, he would have to figure out something to come up with. Something with evil roots. How could killing a group of Nazis ever be seen as good in the eyes of Hell? These Nazis were stirring up all kinds of trouble, trouble that had to be good for Hell. What reason could Crowley come up with that would justify killing them? Aziraphale certainly couldn’t think of anything that would satisfy anyone in Hell. 

“Nothing,” Aziraphale replied. “I’m not implying anything. I’m just surprised that you aren’t asking for anything more is all.” Azirpahale shrugged. “It’s just that what you did . . . well that was a big deal.” 

_ Anything for you my angel _ is what Crowley wanted to say. He knew he couldn’t though. To say that would be to imply his feelings. Feelings that weren’t even supposed to be possible, with him being a demon and all. Not to mention the fact that Aziraphale was an angel, someone he was supposed to hate with every ounce of being within him. Not only that, but Aziraphale was the angel whose assignment was to  _ thwart  _ every single move he made. Make sure that Crowley never did anything to upset the Great Plan. Crowley wasn’t supposed to have . . . these feelings for the angel. He was supposed to  _ despise  _ him with everything that he had. 

But this had been what it was like from day one. 

Crowley had known that his heart belonged to the angel from the moment that Azirpahale admitted to having given away his sword. His flaming, Heaven mandated sword. It wasn’t exactly a  _ bad  _ thing to have done, but it certainly wouldn’t have been something that Heaven would approve of. It showed Crowley something that he wasn’t sure was even possible with angels. It showed him that some angels did actually care about what they were doing. For most, it seemed that their role as an angel was nothing more than a job. If given the chance to leave, they would. 

“Um . . . yes. . . . er . . . big deal this, yes,” Crowely said upon realizing that the angel had been expecting some sort of response and he had not given it for a while. 

“Are you certain that there really isn’t anything else that I can give you?” 

There was, of course, other stuff that Crowley wanted. Crowley wanted a million different things from the angel. He wanted his time. He wanted eternity. He wanted to be able to wrap Aziraphale up in his arms. He wanted to mean as much to Aziraphale as Aziraphale meant to him. He knew that was never going to happen. Aziraphale was an angel who took his job very seriously. He would never let himself succumb to the love of a demon. 

“Dinner is all I want from you,” Crowley confirmed. 

“Alright, then,” Aziraphale said. “In that case, mind how you go, I suppose.” Crowley nodded. 

“I will see you later.” Aziraphale smiled and turned away, surely to head off to his bookshop to place the books back in their spot. Not that anyone else understood the organization of the shop. Not even Crowley understood how the angel organized it, but he was well aware of the fact that each book had been carefully placed in a system of the angel’s own design. 

Crowley could only hope that some day he would be lucky enough to understand the system himself. For now, though, all that was left of the evening was to head back to his own place. Perhaps get a little bit more drunk than he would dare to with the angel. Really ponder his life and how he got there.

If he hadn’t fallen, he would be able to have the angel in any way that he wanted. But he had fallen. He was a demon, no matter the severity of what caused him to fall to begin with (which he really didn’t think was that bad personally. He happened to know angels who were  _ known  _ for doing worse who were still angels). Besides, he had done a number of unforgivable things since falling. It was in the job description. That of the unforgivable. He could never tell Aziraphale of most of anything that he’d done. The angel would never forgive him if he did. Never wish to see him again. Decide to stick to his post more strictly than he did. If he even stayed with Crowley. He could always ask for a new assignment. Crowley shook his head.

_ Which is why he can never find out.  _ That was the end of the conversation. Nothing could convince him otherwise. 

He stepped into his apartment and sighed. Part of him wished that the angel was there, though he’d known that was impossible. He hadn’t given the invite. Even if he had, the angel would never in a million years actually take it. That would be crazy talk. Aziraphale already did more than Crowley ever thought he would by just agreeing to meet with him after having that first conversation on the wall of Eden. 

But no. The cool, dark room is what greeted him, as per usual. The place that, no matter how long he stayed here, would never feel like home. There was always something missing from the place for it to  _ really  _ be considered his home. He knew exactly what he was missing too, and it was something he would never have. That was the end of that. He was just going to have to live with that fact for the rest of eternity. He would never really have a “home” to go to. Not as a building anyway. 

He kicked his shoes off and miracled them out of sight. He settled on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment. That night had been exhausting. Trying to find the angel because he’d gotten a sense that he was in danger. As usual, he had been right, but of course the angel had himself cornered in a church where Crowley really shouldn’t have been able to go to at all, much less stay as long as he did. 

He knew that he was going to get caught having killed the Nazis. Their records would show that their deaths were untimely. That was no matter. He would simply say that he suspected that Aziraphale had gotten to them and they were going to try and better themselves. He knew it wasn’t true, but Hell wasn’t going to know that. Nor would they be able to tell that it was a lie. For having been the inventors of lying, they were really bad at spotting liars. It was almost too easy to lie to the highers of Hell. 

He looked over to his telephone and thought about phoning the angel, forgetting for a moment that Aziraphale had yet to catch up with the times, as he often did. It was one of the traits that Crowley found endearing. How the angel always dressed just slightly out of date but still managed to make it look good. How he didn’t know what a phone even was simply because he chose not to interact with people when all necessary. How he had gotten wrapped up in Nazi business was beyond what Crowey would ever be able to understand. Had he done it on purpose to try and stop them? If that was the case, why had he gone at it alone or not thought to use miracles to help him? He could have just been that naive, though Crowley doubted it. Aziraphale had been around for a long, long time. He knew how smart the angel was.

Crowley leaned back in his chair and sighed. He supposed he could just call it a night. It was getting quite late. Perhaps he’d call it a decade and try again later. The whole Nazi business was getting quite out of hand, and he didn’t want to stick around to see what happened. But that would leave the angel alone until he woke up, and he really did not want to do that. The last time Crowley had gone to sleep for more than just a night, Azirpahale had went off and learned the gavotte. Angels don’t dance. 

So it was settled then. He wasn’t going to sleep. But he did want the situation to end rather quickly. He couldn’t get caught trying to stop it though. Hell would not be quick to forgive if that were the case. 

Still, it was much too late and he was much too tired for him to be making these sorts of decisions. He miracled himself into clothes that would be a little bit more comfortable to sleep in and headed to his room. He stared at his bed, for a moment picturing Aziraphale there asleep as well. He smiled at the thought though he knew it was never going to happen. He crawled under the blankets and snapped the lights off. 

Tomorrow was another day and he would start dealing with the Nazi problem then. For now, he just needed to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hits and kudos mean the world to me. Comments fuel me into next week.   
> Find me on Tumblr @justanangelandhisdemon and @justademonandtheirangel


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